


Dirty Bees, Clean Bees, Filthy Bees

by Kiiratam



Category: RWBY
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dressing, Exciting Underwear, F/F, Smut, Undressing, Yang is a useless lesbian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:07:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26491666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiiratam/pseuds/Kiiratam
Summary: Yang and Bumblebee roll into the Beacon garage, covered in mud. But Blake is there to help. And 'help.'Takes place during Volume 5, between Chapters 8 and 11 (My BMBLB fic index).The teen-rated version ishere.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 12
Kudos: 65





	Dirty Bees, Clean Bees, Filthy Bees

"What did you _do_ , Yang? Swim in mud?"

  
Pulling off her helmet, Yang looked sheepishly at Blake. "In my defense, I didn't think it was _that_ deep."

  
Blake sighed and held out a Beacon uniform on a hanger. "I brought your spare clothes. Get changed, we've got class in twenty."

  
Yang dismounted and reached for the hanger. 'Thanks, I really appreciate it."

  
Whisking it out of her reach, Blake starred pointedly at Yang's mud covered jacket and pants. "This is your last clean one, and we've got a presentation for Oobleck. Weiss made me promise you'd look perfect. Undress, _then_ you get your clothes."

  
"Blake, it's just some mud! It'll brush off."

  
Blake gave her a distinctly Weissian Look.

  
"Okay, okay!" Yang turned around and pulled the little garage door nearly shut. She drew the line at getting changed in front of literally anyone who decided to walk by. All would take would be one person taking video, and it'd be the Signal mess all over again, except worse.

  
Hanging Yang's uniform on one of the pegs above the workbench, Blake pulled her jacket, vest, and tie off, and started unbuttoning her blouse.

  
"Um, Blake?" Yang tossed her biking jacket onto a stack of spare tires and handlebars. "I don't actually need you to show me how to undress."

  
_Why did I say that? Now she's going to stop._

  
Blake rolled her eyes and kept unbuttoning her blouse. Seeing black lace underneath, Yang's mouth dried up. "You get changed, I'm going to get Bumblebee cleaned up."

  
The smart part of Yang knew that was a good idea. Clean before everything dried, and started fouling and clogging basically everything. Unfortunately, the dumb part of Yang had control of the mouth. "...Naked?"

  
Pulling her blouse off, Blake draped in over the workbench. "I'm _also_ on my last clean uniform. We have to do laundry." Yang knew she was staring. That was not a regular-wear bra for Blake. Unfortunately, because it was strapless, and apparently held up by sheer force of will. Or Yang's eyes were pinning it on. She made herself look down at herself, and unbutton and unzip her pants. Which left her hand in a Very Dangerous place, given the circumstances.

  
Yang heard a swish of fabric and looked up. Directly at the Bellabooty, as Blake laid her skirt on top of her blouse. And leaned over, one hand braced on the workbench, to take her shoes and socks off.

  
Swallowing, Yang made herself move her hands to her belt loops, and start peeling her pants off. She felt light-headed, like she'd caught a haymaker with her face. Yang could feel her pulse pound in her temples, making the edges of her vision waver. Tunnel-vision was setting in, and Blake's perfect butt was the only thing still in focus.

  
Blake straightened -still perfect - and turned around - no longer visible, but still perfect. "Yang? Boobs?"

  
Looking down at her chest, Yang wondered what was wrong with hers. They were still right where they should be, well-supported in her sports bra.

  
_Maybe Blake meant hers?_ Yang looked over, squinting slightly. She wanted to bury her face in them, but she didn't see anything _wrong_. 

  
Blake snapped her fingers. "Yang, your boots. _Boots_."

  
Yang looked down again. She still had her boots on, and she couldn't take her pants off until she took her boots off. "Oh! Right." Sitting down, she started working her boots off. The concrete floor was cool on her butt. _Just focus on your boots. Don't look at Blake. Weiss will be upset._

  
The sound of running water drew her attention, and she looked up. At Blake at the utility sink, filling a bucket. Facing away from her.

  
_No!_ Yang forced herself to look up, at the ceiling with its fan and row of lights. _Can't look. Too perfect. No time._

  
She set one boot aside, and started working on the other, noticing that her hands were all muddy now. _Wash hands first._

  
"Blake, can I get some of that water?" Yang got the second boot off, and grimaced down at her filthy hands.

  
The bucket was set down in front of her, to the slosh of water. A little cluster of soap bubbles launched itself from the bucket, landing on Yang's foot.

  
None of which Yang _really_ noticed, because Blake's cleavage was at eye level, since she'd bent over to put the bucket down.

  
"Come on, wash up. Bumblebee is waiting." Blake was still holding onto the handle of the bucket, and she had a big sponge in the other. And she'd taken the bow off her ears, and used it to tie her hair back. And her boobs were just hanging there, fighting desperately against the black lace of their prison.

  
_Clean. Clean thoughts. Clean hands._ Yang plunged her hands into the bucket. Nearly splashed some on her face, despite the bubbles. She pulled her hands back, and Blake put the sponge in the bucket and handed Yang a rag to dry her hands on. Where she had gotten the rag from, Yang had no idea.

  
"Come on, Yang, get dressed. Fifteen minutes." Blake turned away, and _that didn't help_. She bent over, and started cleaning the mud off of Bumblebee. Humming to herself, moving to the music in her head.

  
Time. Time was a thing that had meaning to Yang. Not right now, but she was sure that the meaning would eventually come back to her. While she waited, though, Yang would be thrilled to just sit and watch.

  
...Well, maybe not _just_ watch.

  
A snatch of conversation outside jolted Yang back to herself. And what she was about to start doing. She bolted up, grateful that Blake was facing the other way, and couldn't see her face. Especially the color of it.

  
Yang bent over and pulled her pants the rest of the way off, focusing on a damp spot on the concrete, right by Bumblebee's rear tire. Blake's ankles and calves moved through her point of focus, but Yang could look at those safely. Probably.

  
She kept her eyes low as she skirted the edge of the garage, headed for the workbench. Made it safely. Yang took her uniform down from where Blake had hung it, and started putting it on. Blouse on and button up, ignoring the bouncy tune Blake was humming. Hook the skirt on, being very careful with her hands. Vest on, jacket on, and buttoned, ignoring the squelch of the sponge, and the drip of water. Tie the tie in a cute bow, focusing on the knot, not how cute Blake looked with her hair up. Hop up on the workbench, and pull the stockings on, not letting her vision focus on anything farther away than her toes. Shoes on!

  
Yang blew out a breath, feeling like she should earn a medal. She looked up.

  
Blake had finished scrubbing Bumblebee, and had gotten a fresh bucket of water, and was splashing the suds off. 

  
She looked up at her friend and smiled. "I knew you could do it." Blake paused, and Yang had a moment of confusion at her unreadable expression. "Did you do your part of the presentation?"

  
Yang felt her eyes open wide, and she desperately tried to recall something, _anything_. 

  
_Oh no. Nononononono!_

  
Blake's giggles broke her out of her looming horror. "Your _face_!" She put her hand over her mouth, trying to keep from bursting out laughing. "Weiss owes me; she was _sure_ you'd figure it out sooner."

  
"Then this-? All of this-?" Yang looked around the garage, wondering if Blake had hidden cameras somewhere. She narrowed her eyes at her friend. "I'm going to get you back for this."

  
Blake leaned back on Bumblebee. "Why wait?" She was still smiling. ...And still only wearing her bra and panties. A droplet of water rolled down from her chest, and plunged out of sight. Yang was struck with desperate need to find it. "That is," Blake said, her smile flickering back to the mischievous, "If you don't mind undressing _again_."

  
Yang didn't mind at all. She grabbed the end of her tie and pulled it off, not really caring when it ended up as she tore at the buttons of her jacket, and vest, and shirt - why did this stupid uniform have so many _layers_?

  
Laughing, Blake said, "I'm not sewing any buttons back on. And I'm still rinsing your bike. Relax."

  
And then, with _complete_ knowledge of what she was doing, Blake turned around, and bent over at the waist to keep washing Bumblebee, waggling her butt just enough to still be _theoretically_ unintentional.

  
Really, Yang had to admire Blake's self control. And her ass. Butt there she was, just happily splashing away, humming again, not looking to her rear, not taking in the dumb look Yang _knew_ her face was making.

  
_What was I-?_

  
Yang tore her eyes away from the **magnificence** long enough to glance down at herself. Her hands, stuck halfway through getting the middle button of her vest out of the buttonhole.

  
_Right_.

  
She made herself go slow, focusing on her breathing, even if she just wanted to tear her clothes off and tackle Blake -

  
But Yang pulled her vest and jacket off, all buttons still in place. Maybe a little strained. Fighting down the little Weiss in her head, Yang refused to hang them back up, tossing them on top of Blake's clothes. There was a time and place, and Yang wasn't so masochistic as to spend the time making sure her uniform didn't wrinkle when there was a mostly naked Blake in front of her.

  
"All done!"

  
_Very_ in front of her. Literally inches away, so close that Yang leaned back into the workbench, trying to give her more space. She managed not to yelp in alarm, but Blake's grin -

  
Blake reached out and straightened Yang's collar, and, perversely, rebuttoned the topmost button. "Bumblebee is all nice and clean. Just how you like her."

  
"Um, thanks." Yang tried to think of something clever, choked. "And I'm all nice and clean, just how Weiss likes me."

  
"Not quite." Pulling out her handkerchief, Blake dabbed at Yang's cheek. "You've still got some mud spots. Hold still."

  
As Blake worked, Yang held herself in a rigid stillness, her hands squeezing the edge of the workbench, able to feel the fabric of Blake's bra when she breathed -

  
Yang held her breath.

  
Grabbing onto Yang's chin, Blake used it to turn her head, doing an inspection. " _Now_ you're all clean."

  
She wasn't getting any less close. Yang let out a long breath, trying not to blow in Blake's face. "Thanks?"

  
"Oh, what bra are you wearing today?"

  
"Uhhh..." Yang couldn't remember. "I just got changed?" She must have seen.

  
Blake rolled her eyes. " _I_ was busy cleaning _your_ bike."

  
"Oh, yeah, right. Um, thanks again."

  
"You're welcome! ...So which one is it?"

  
"Sorry?" Yang shrugged as well as she could, with Blake practically looming over her. "I don't remember?"

  
Blake gave her a wicked grin. "That's all right. I'll just check."

  
Why was it so hard to _think_ all of the sudden? Yang closed her eyes, as if that would stop the blush. She swallowed. "Sure, go ahead." It was finally happening, Blake was finally ready -

  
A bucketful of cold water doused her chest.

  
About the only upside Yang found was that she hadn't screamed _that_ loudly.

  
Hugging her chest, shivering - less from the cold than the shock - Yang glared at Blake. "I am _really_ going to get you."

  
"Promises, promises." Blake set the bucket down, and took a step closer. "What are you going to do?" 

  
It wasn't like Yang had thought about it - fantasized about it - screamed into her pillow about it. But having Blake, **right here** , asking her directly - her mind was blank.

  
Placing her hands on Yang's hips, Blake pulled her closer still. Her breath was warm on Yang's ear as she whispered, "What do you want to do to me?"

  
A single, solitary thought showed up, and Yang pounced on it. In a husky tone, she whispered back, "I'm going to grab the spare blanket I keep in here, and lay it out on the floor -"

  
Blake was breathing faster, her lips brushing Yang's ear.

  
"- And pull you down onto it-"

  
\- It was _really_ hard to concentrate with Blake nibbling on her -

  
Yang wrapped her arms tightly around Blake. "- Then I'm just going to roll you up in it and sit on you, while I read bad poetry to you."

  
Burying her face in Yang's shoulder, Blake was managing to keep most of her giggles inaudible, but the odd one slipped through. And Yang could still feel her shaking with laughter.

  
Emboldened, Yang went on. "And I'll find some _terrible_ smut and read that too. I find one that spells out groans and moans and stuff, and try to say them. And I'll do voices for all the characters."

  
Blake lifted her head and grinned at Yang. "That actually sounds like a fun evening."

  
Yang snorted. "Well, there's no accounting for taste."

  
"But I really think we need to get you out of these wet clothes first." She plucked at Yang's blouse. The one _she_ had dumped water all over.

  
Looking closely at Blake, Yang tried to find any reluctance in her face. "Are you sure? They'll dry-"

  
"Please." Blake gently kissed Yang's cheek. "I'm not sure how much harder I can throw myself at you."

  
Dropping her eyes, Yang felt her blush coming back. But she managed to blurt out, "I'll unbutton the top, you get the bottom?"

  
"Deal." As soon as she said it, Blake was pulling up on Yang's blouse, getting it free of her skirt. And quickly, efficiently, unbuttoning it.

  
Yang tried to keep her half of the bargain, with fingers that felt heavy and awkward. But she was only three buttons down when Blake met her - right over Yang's pounding heart. 

  
Blake undid the last button, working around Yang's hands. She looked up at Yang, slightly concerned. "Are you - I mean, we don't have to-" She took a deep breath. "You just seem really unsure, and-"

  
Yang kissed her.

  
When she finally pulled back from the kiss, Yang said, " _You_ have been nearly naked for I don't even know how long now, _and_ you've been cute _and_ flirty _and_ adorable _and_ I can't even-" She shook her head. "Too hot. Can't brain."

  
At least Blake still remembered how to blush. Yang had been worried. But there was no point dwelling on it, when Yang could try to seize the initiative back - she tugged her blouse open, and let it slip off of her shoulders. Not that the display was _that_ impressive - it was just her sports bra. But still - Yang shimmied, trying (mostly in vain) to jiggle for Blake. "Want to get me out of this too? It's soaked."

  
Blake didn't need much encouragement, because she hooked her thumbs underneath the elastic and tugged it up, freeing Yang's breasts. And watching Blake's face was _definitely_ the best part of that, seeing the playfulness switch over to _need_.

  
Not even bothering to hide her grin, Yang put her arms behind her back, arching her back, making sure she had Blake's complete attention. And getting the buttons on her cuffs undone, so maybe she could actually get _out_ of her wet blouse.

  
"Are you just going to look -" Yang didn't even get to finish her sentence.

  
Practically shaking with contained energy, Blake had stopped just shy of grabbed Yang's breasts. She had her hands cupped, just barely touching Yang with her fingertips. Blake met Yang's eyes. "Can we go slow?"

  
She didn't _look_ like she wanted to go slow.

  
But really, what was Yang going to say? 'No, I insist you take me hard and fast'? Push Blake away, because she still wasn't sure if she knew what she wanted, except to be safe?

  
Yang pressed forward a bit. "I'm in your hands."

  
Shivering, Blake made a noise in the back of her throat that really made Yang want to just _grab_ her, and go chasing after more noises like it -

  
\- But she was going to be patient.

  
It would be worth it. It really would, because she knew that as soon as Blake committed, Yang was just going to melt and go all gooey and weak-kneed, and watching Blake's face, watching her realization that she could do this, that Yang was _hers_ -

  
Closing her eyes, Yang bit her lip, trying not to lose herself in anticipation when Blake was just getting started touching her - 

  
\- A little more forcefully, now, more than just the butterfly-kiss-contact, enough to leave a brief pressure trail on Yang's skin, and Yang couldn't decide if Blake's touch was leaving trails of fire or ice, whether she was shivering from her dousing, or from Blake's touch -

  
Yang remembered that she was still technically wearing her blouse, even if it had puddled around her wrists, and her sports bra wasn't getting any less damp - she pushed off from the edge of the workbench, closer to Blake -

  
\- Who looked up at her, eyes alert, probably sure she'd done something wrong -

  
Trying to dispel that, because the _last_ thing she wanted was for Blake to stop touching her, Yang slipped out of her blouse and held it up by one cuff, before dropping it on the floor. "Well, _that's_ dirty now. Want to help me do laundry later?" She made sure she was grinning, because she wanted to be stuck in the laundry room with Blake for two hours, where the noises of the machines could swallow their moans, and she could definitely think of some uses for a madly shaking dryer, and -

  
"Sure." Blake buried her face in Yang's breasts, and she muttered something else, but Yang couldn't hear her at all, and she really wanted to, but she also didn't want Blake to _move_. But - starting slow.

  
"What was that?" Yang stroked Blake's hair, trying to draw her up.

  
And fortunately? Unfortunately? Blake took her prompt, raising her head and meeting Yang's eyes. "I want to shower with you."

  
Definitely fortunately.

  
Yang could imagine Blake pressed against her, the water soaking both of them, kisses in the rain without having to have the rain, and being able to just press Blake against the wall and make the showers echo with her screams -

  
Blake was still looking up at her.

  
_Focus!_

  
"Yeah!" She swallowed, trying to temper her expectations a bit. "I mean, yeah, a shower sounds good."

  
Letting go of her breasts, Blake wrapped her arms around Yang, and nestled her head on Yang's shoulder. "I want you. Here, there, our room, literally anywhere. After class, in the middle of the night, as a training cooldown -" She broke off, and squeezed Yang tightly. "Slow and languid and romantic, and fast and loud and frantic."

  
Yang tried to return the strength of Blake's hug, trying to ignore the awkwardness of her damp bra, just pushed up, and slightly irritating for that. This was more important than her slight discomfort.

  
"And I'm such a mess and I make you put up with so much and-"

  
"Hey." Yang reached up to hold the back of Blake's head, brush her hair gently. "It's okay. You don't _make_ me do anything. I want to be here for you."

  
"And I need to pay you back and I know that's not how this works, and it's not why I'm doing this-" Blake broke off, doing her breathing trick - in, hold, out - "I love you. For you, not just for helping me." She grimaced. "And I ruined the mood, didn't I?"

  
Yang snorted. "Yeah, telling me you love me is a real mood killer. My panties have totally stopped being soaked."

  
Cocking her head, Blake let go, and reached down to feel Yang's skirt. "I didn't think -" And then she got it, and her blush came roaring back.

  
Taking the opportunity, Yang pulled off her damp bra, and tossed it to the floor. "Oh no, more laundry. Want to get me out of the last of my wet clothes?"

  
"Um, yes? Please?"

  
Grinning, Yang grabbed Blake's hands, interlacing their fingers. "Well, you're not going to be able to use your hands to do it."

  
Blake seemed to be _more_ than okay with that, squeezing back tightly, and slowly dropping to her knees in front of Yang. And Yang had to lean back into the workbench for support, because her knees had started quavering. And Blake hadn't even _done_ anything yet!

  
...Apart from making Yang undress. Twice. And get her wet. Twice.

  
And it wasn't like Blake couldn't tell, because she left a little rosette of kisses on one of Yang's knees. In a low tone, she said, "Shaking already? This is going to be a rough day for you."

  
"Blake..."

  
She looked up with a smirk. "It _knee_ -ded reassurance."

  
Before Yang could protest that, Blake's head slipped under Yang's skirt, and her ears were tickling Yang's thighs, and her breath was hot, and she was ascending on a line of kisses -

  
Despite her best efforts, Yang squirmed - not trying to get away, but hoping that Blake would linger and -

  
It was slightly hilarious, seeing the outline of Blake's head moving around - 

  
\- But her teeth scraped Yang's skin, and started dragging Yang's panties down -

  
And then stopped, amid muffled swearing, as Blake had to switch to Yang's other hip.

  
Trying - fairly unsuccessfully - to stifle her laughter, Yang squeezed Blake's hands. "I love you."

  
Blake's voice drifted up. "I love you, and how much do you like these panties? I may have to bite them off."

  
"Whatever it takes."

  
"It would be a _lot_ easier if-"

  
Yang decided to forestall that thought by moving Blake's hands to her breasts. As Blake kneaded, and squeezed, and caressed, Yang unhooked her skirt. "Good morning!"

  
Trying to work the strap of Yang's panty into her mouth, Blake looked up at her, and let out a slightly garbled, "Hello."

  
"Do you want a hand?"

  
"I **will** get this."

  
Who was Yang to interfere with that level of determination? 

  
...Even if she was feeling slightly impatient.

  
She shifted away from the workbench enough to let her skirt fall to the ground. So now it was just deciding if she should help Blake with her breasts, or play with Blake's hair, or try to communicate _how_ impatient she was feeling -

  
With a triumphant sound, Blake got it, and moved her hands down to Yang's waist, as she dragged Yang's panties down to her knees. They were all twisted up by that point, so Yang didn't feel bad about helping a little bit, shifting her knees and feet so Blake could finish getting them off.

  
And she was already _right there_ , and Yang grabbed onto the edge of the workbench with desperate strength, because as much as she wanted to just fist her hand in Blake's hair and pull her close -

  
Blake wanted slow.

  
"Hey-" Yang tried to think of something that wasn't just 'please please please fuck me.'

  
Blake looked up at her, Yang's panties dangling from her mouth. She tossed her head, sending the panties flying off in the vague direction of the laundry pile.

  
And _she_ still had clothes on, and _that_ practically qualified as a crime-

  
Yang bent over to kiss Blake, and tried to pull her up, because having Blake on her knees was too much of a temptation -

  
But Blake wasn't stopping, still pressing forward, and Yang found herself sitting on the workbench, her legs wrapped around Blake's waist, Blake's hands pulling on her hair, forcing her head back and letting Blake rain kisses and light nips down on her throat and shoulders, and breasts -

  
Groaning, Yang locked her legs behind Blake's back, trying to pull her even closer, get her to keep touching anywhere, everywhere -

  
She needed Blake. And she wanted to show off for her, show Blake how much she was looking forward to this, how ready she was -

  
Yang grabbed onto her own wrists, behind her back. Blake was setting the pace.

  
And it wasn't like they weren't both already having fun, Yang noted in the last functional part of her brain. Everything Blake was doing to her - she was practically pulsing with pleasure, and every time Blake pulled back for a second, pulling Yang's head into place for a kiss - she was beautiful and glowing and adorable, and Yang didn't need to do anything, because everything was perfect -

  
...Almost.

  
Reaching out, trying to get enough air to talk, Yang ran her knuckle across the black lace of Blake's bra. "Can... can I see?"

  
"Mmm, I don't know..." Blake punctuated that remark with a long lick. "I'm the one doing all the work."

  
Yang whined in the back of her throat, trying to fight through the waves of pleasure, trying to make her case, "Please, please, please, I want to touch you back, I want to make you feel this good."

  
Not exactly rhetorical genius, but Yang hoped that could be forgiven, under the circumstances.

  
Blake apparently felt so, because she let Yang's hair go - which was a loss - and, doubling her arms behind herself, undid her bra. Even if she then held it closed, working her arms to the front, holding it modestly to her chest. Even if that grin definitely wasn't modest.

  
Leaning forward, poised, mouth open, ready to pounce - Yang touched her hand to her mouth, making sure she wasn't actually drooling.

  
Laughing, Blake tossed her bra aside. "More laundry!"

  
Yang didn't even mind. Even if it was hand wash only, and Blake gave her Weiss-level care instructions -

  
Burying her face in Blake's cleavage, Yang tried not to do too much at once, sticking to kisses for now. She could get to bites, and licks, and sucking, and -

  
Blake was petting her hair, making happy little noises.

  
She was happy. That was the most important thing.

  
But it didn't mean she couldn't get _happier_. Yang just had to figure out how. Or...

  
Yang kissed her way up to Blake's ear, and whispered, "What do you want?"

  
Shivering, Blake used her handhold on Yang's hair to pull her back, and she was practically glowing with love and joy. Her golden eyes bright, she said,

* * *

  
_"I love you."_

  
Yang didn't open her eyes, kept them closed against the light dawning through the window, the light that had woken her up. She could hear Ruby snoring, and the birds singing in the courtyard outside. And smell the pancakes Ren was making. But she was going to burn that image of Blake into her mind _before_ she opened her eyes. A token of something that had never been, would never be. But was precious nevertheless.


End file.
